


Ride or Die

by fuzipenguin



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe, Injury, Insecurity, M/M, Original Character(s), Other, Separate Childhoods, Separated at Birth, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Transformers Spark Bonds, Twincest, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:48:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21534733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: Sunstreaker and Sideswipe have never met before. When they do, Sunstreaker's not impressed.
Relationships: Sideswipe/Sunstreaker
Comments: 60
Kudos: 191





	1. Meet Cute

**Author's Note:**

> balloonarcade said: I wish you'd write a fic where separated twins meet for the first time. I'd love to see your interpretation of a meet cute for them.

Sunstreaker was starting to run out of curses to hurl at his unit commander. Not that Total cared. Total had been offlined half a joor earlier. But Sunstreaker needed to vent his frustrations out on _someone_ and it wasn’t like the ‘cons could hear Sunstreaker. Not over the endless artillery barrage anyway.

The remainder of the Third battalion was stuck, pinned down among the various foxholes and tunnels on the Autobot side of the Protihex frontlines. Sunstreaker had no idea who else was alive, although he doubted everyone was dead. There had to be movement of _some_ sort going on; not even the Decepticons could afford to waste munitions. Of course, both short and long range communications were being jammed so Sunstreaker was at a loss as to what to do next.

It was getting to the point where Sunstreaker was about to say ‘frag it all’ and throw himself out from behind his cover in a mad dash to… somewhere… when another body slid into the foxhole.

… slid was putting it nicely. It was more of a tumble/mad flail of limbs that impacted Sunstreaker in the side and sent both parties sprawling.

“Oh, hey there…!” a jovial voice chirped. “Sorry… didn’t know this was occupied.”

Sunstreaker opened his gritty optics to stare up into the mud-smeared face of a soldier he didn’t know. Which wasn’t a surprise. He was one out of a hundred in his unit, and he hadn’t bothered to learn the designations or faces of the other ninety-nine.

Over the span of a week, three quarters of his original one hundred had been killed, so Sunstreaker didn’t see much point in keeping track after that.

The guy sprawled out on top of him looked far too cheerful for this hellhole, and Sunstreaker immediately hated him on sheer principal. Although… the crimson of his plating sure did make the blue of his optics pop beautifully.

So… maybe Sunstreaker didn’t hate him _completely._

But it sure was still a lot… who kept a _bright red_ paintjob in the middle of a _war_? He basically had a perpetual neon sign above his head saying ‘shoot me!’.

Sunstreaker supposed he really shouldn’t be one to talk… but true beauty should never be stifled. Or drenched in mud…

“Get off me!” Sunstreaker growled, pushing ineffectually at the newcomer’s slicked plating. Ugh. He was dripping mud and energon onto Sunstreaker and it didn’t matter that Sunstreaker was already filthy. Sunstreaker had _earned_ that filth in the process of killing over two dozen ‘cons. He didn’t need someone else’s transference.

The mech barely budged except to raise his upper body. He supported his weight on his palms, his hands sinking into the dirt on either side of Sunstreaker’s shoulders.

“Ya sure?” Red asked, leering a little. “Pretty guy like you, pretty guy like me… not like we have places to be, amirite?”

Annnd Sunstreaker was back to hating him completely. 

“ _Off!”_ Sunstreaker roared, getting his arms between them and shoving Red’s chest.

“Yeah, yeah, you caught me,” Red said with a laugh, rolling off to the side. He completed the motion so that he came up on one knee, head popping up over the edge of the hole. He nearly got it shot off and he quickly ducked back down.

“I actually do have someplace to be. Got to get a message to a guy named Total?” Red asked, brushing himself off and seemingly not caring that Sunstreaker was seething at him, hands fisted around two energen daggers. “Seen him around?”

Sunstreaker counted to ten. Then one hundred. “Yes,” he forced out through gritted denta. “I have.”

Red perked up. “Yeah? Oh, please say he’s close by. I’ve nearly gotten my skidplate shot off about eight times hopping from bolthole to bolthole.”

Sunstreaker was sorely, _sorely_ tempted to tell the solider Total was another quarter mile closer towards the front line. Instead, he pointed at Total’s grayed out frame, half hidden under a shower of dirt in the corner.

“There.”

Red followed Sunstreaker’s finger, looking excited before his expression faded into one of frustration. “Aw, you have got to be kidding me! How long has he been dead?”

“Nearly a joor,” Sunstreaker replied, something in his chest going tight at the dejected frown on the other guy’s face. The expression struck Sunstreaker as all wrong; he had a sneaking suspicion that Red smiled and laughed a lot.

Then Sunstreaker shook himself, staring down at the knife in his left hand and thinking about using it on himself. Why did he care that this complete stranger was sad?!

“Ok, then,” Red said, pursing his lips. He flinched as a nearby blast showered more dirt and debris own onto them. “Any idea who’s next in command?”

“Should have been Aces. But he died before Total did. I have no idea who’s still left,” Sunstreaker said.

Red stared at him for a long moment. “Damnit. Ok. Well, seems like I have two options then.”

Sunstreaker raised an orbital ridge and nodded in agreement. “Leave and go that way…” he said, pointing over his shoulder at the direction Red had originally come from, “…. or that way,” he added, nodding towards the frontline. “But either way… leave.”

So Sunstreaker could have some peace. As much peace as he could get anyway.

Red’s lips twisted into a wry grin. “I don’t like going backwards… it’s just not my style. So I guess I’m going forward. Maybe take out a few gunners’ nests while I’m at it. Wanna join me, pretty boy?”

Sunstreaker bared his denta at the soldier, although secretly he was a little impressed. Most others would have called it quits and hunkered down once they realized their mission was over. Not go back into the thick of things.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Well, it’s not like you told me your designation,” Red replied, shrugging. “Name’s Sideswipe, by the way.”

Giving a grunt, Sunstreaker slipped his knives back into their sheaths and hefted his two sonic blasters into his hands. Sideswipe’s optics brightened hungrily at the sight of the obviously enhanced, non-issue weapons.

“Sunstreaker. I’ll lead; stay out of my way,” Sunstreaker barked. Now was as good as a time as any to move. He had already been considering it; another warm frame might help, if nothing than other to block a shot meant for Sunstreaker. “Watch my back and cover me.”

“Sure thing, Sunny!” Sideswipe said, optics glinting with a manic light as his pulled two guns out of subspace. Sunstreaker noted they were pretty impressive in their own right. And the shoulder mounted rocket was pretty nice too, Sunstreaker absently mused.

Then he realized what Sideswipe had said.

“Don’t call me that either!” Sunstreaker snapped, pushing himself to his feet and rolling up over the edge of the foxhole. He couldn’t afford to look behind him, but he sensed a shadowing presence and witnessed heavy blaster fire being laid down in front of him.

So… not completely useless then.

Sunstreaker still hated him on principle. But maybe not as much as before.

What did it matter anyway? Wasn’t like they were going to live through this and ever see each other again.

~ End chapter


	2. The 1st Rule of a Sunstreaker Relationship

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Sunstreaker muttered to himself, watching the unit’s newest members enter the barracks. At the fore of the small crowd was a brilliantly colored red mech, one whom Sunstreaker had thought he had seen the last of a few weeks ago.

The walking annoyance apparently grinned as much outside of battle as in it and was just as talkative as Sunstreaker had experienced. The guy blithely walked up to the first mecha he saw and started chatting away. Within minutes, he had a group of people surrounding him, nodding and smiling and laughing at whatever the idiot whose designation Sunstreaker couldn’t recall was saying.

Sunstreaker turned his attention back to his rifle, shaking his head.

Awesome. So the guy was pretty _and_ popular. Not that Sunstreaker wasn’t the best looking mech here, but still. Side…. whatever his name was… had a handsome face. And strong shoulders. And a perfect waist Sunstreaker could imagine wrapping his legs…

… what… the… _frag!_

That was it. Sunstreaker really needed to start playing nice more often so he could satisfy some of his carnal urges. Side…person… was good-looking, sure, but he wasn’t worth fantasizing over.

“Hey, Sunny!”

Sunstreaker’s head jerked up, shocked at the sudden loud voice practically in his audial and the bounce of another mech plopping down on his bunk mattress.

“Glad you’re still alive, I kinda lost track of you after our little adventure!” Side-something chirped, grinning as if he had just won the lottery.

Sunstreaker reflexively looked over his shoulder because no one was ever that happy to see him. But there was nothing there but wall, because Sunstreaker had enough issues with recharging with someone next to him on _one_ side.

“… that had been the plan, actually,” Sunstreaker retorted, glancing back at the other mech with a scowl.

Side-something pouted, and Sunstreaker ruthlessly squashed down his instinctive reaction of ‘awww!’.

“Now that’s mean! You can’t deny that we clicked out there. You’ve got some _moves_ , mech,” Sides-something said, bumping his shoulder into Sunstreaker’s. “I wouldn’t mind seeing more of them.”

The entire room suddenly went deathly quiet. Side-something’s orbital ridges furrowed and he looked around, confused.

“Uh… what’s up, guys?”

‘Swipe’. That was it. Side _swipe_. How accurate.

Sunstreaker’s hands were tight around his rifle stock, but because the overly cheerful idiot had actually backed Sunstreaker up without fault, Sunstreaker gave him a one-time pass.

“ _Don’t_ … touch me,” Sunstreaker gritted out through clenched denta.

Sideswipe turned back around and stared at Sunstreaker in surprise. Then he glanced down at Sunstreaker’s shoulder. Realization dawned on the other mech’s face and he scooted sideways across the berth, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry ‘bout that. I’m kinda touchy-feely… most people actually like that about me, if you know what I mean,” Sideswipe said, orbital ridges waggling suggestively.

An idiot. A Primus-be-damned idiot who thought himself amusing.

“I know what you mean, and I _don’t_ like it. So frag off,” Sunstreaker snarled, every inch of him coiling up tight in preparation for the protest to his rejection.

It was always the same. Someone would get the bright idea to proposition Sunstreaker, usually in the crudest way possible. And then they would get all defensive and torqued off when Sunstreaker invariably said ‘no’. Because he was beautiful, yes… but he wasn’t a piece of shareware to be pawed at.

But Sideswipe went completely against the norm. He just nonchalantly shrugged and threw him another bright smile. “Okie doke. See you later, Sunny!”

He bounced off with a wave and Sunstreaker stared after him, a little befuddled at the abrupt and seemingly unbothered departure.

Then once again, Sideswipe’s actual words registered and Sunstreaker shot to his feet, the familiar irritation flooding back through him.

“Don’t fragging call me that!”

~ End chapter


	3. Uncoordinated

“What are you doing?”

Sideswipe paused, half crouched over the bench with one leg raised in the air. He wobbled a little as he turned his head to look at Sunstreaker.

“Uh… sitting?” Sideswipe offered, confused.

“Why?” Sunstreaker barked. He clutched his half full cube of energon tighter, the container creaking ominously.

“Because if I walk and drink at the same time, I end up tripping or spilling. Even if I stand, it’s only 50/50 that the fuel will actually get into my mouth,” Sideswipe explained. He slowly lowered his aft to the bench and swiveled, pulling his other leg up and over. “I’m just not that coordinated. Nobody’s perfect.”

Despite himself, Sunstreaker’s lips twitched upwards in a small grin because he could see it. It’d been a few weeks now so Sunstreaker could say with complete certainty that Sideswipe was always in motion, even if he didn’t realize it himself. Except when he was recharging. Then he was dead to the world and didn’t even twitch.

Not that Sunstreaker had ever stayed awake and watched or anything.

Sideswipe gasped, optics widening. “Wow, will you look at that? Scowling is a great look on you, don’t get me wrong, but it’s nice to try out a new expression every now and then, isn’t it?”

Sunstreaker immediately glowered, and Sideswipe rolled his optics. “It was a compliment, you know. You have a nice smile. You should do it more often.”

“What is there to smile about?” Sunstreaker asked, gesturing at the rest of the cramped room milling with soldiers. There was always a lack of seating, but no one ever sat at Sunstreaker’s table. Not after Sunstreaker had punted a minibot through the nearest wall for practically sitting in Sunstreaker’s lap.

“Well… I got steady supply of fuel. Got a roof over my head when I recharge. That’s better than what I had not so long ago,” Sideswipe pointed out.

“And tomorrow you might be bleeding out on a battlefield somewhere, ripped apart by a Decepticon land mine,” Sunstreaker returned.

Sideswipe just shrugged. “Decepticons. Disease. Hunger. It’s all the same isn’t it? Life is just one moment at a time. Live it the best you can with what you got. Or who you got.”

He winked suggestively at Sunstreaker before attempting to take a gulp of energon. To Sunstreaker’s endless amusement, Sideswipe missed his own mouth and fuel spattered down onto his chestplate.

Sideswipe jerked with a curse, wiping at his armor. “Oh, seriously!? Do you see what I mean?”

Sunstreaker snorted, unable able to stop the wide smile from stretching across his face. Sideswipe’s head jerked up at Sunstreaker’s snort. He blinked in surprise at Sunstreaker and then his head tilted to the side, optics suddenly going warm and soft. 

“You know, I think I’d spill my whole ration on myself just to get you to smile like that again,” Sideswipe said quietly.

Sunstreaker’s smile slid from his face and his fuel pump skipped a beat. He ignored it. Mecha would say anything to get under Sunstreaker’s plating, and Sideswipe had been trying since they had first run into each other at the foxhole.

Except… that really hadn’t been a proposition… had it?

Sunstreaker didn’t run if he could fight. But this…. _this_ he didn’t know how to fight.

“Shut up,” Sunstreaker muttered, abruptly pushing himself to his feet. He gave his cube a little shove and it slid across the table, directly into Sideswipe’s hastily thrown up hand. “How about you not spill that one too?”

He walked off, heading to the barracks. He never looked back, but he could have sworn there were optics staring at him the whole way out of the room.

~ End chapter


	4. Holding Back

“Hey, wanna spar?” Sideswipe asked, popping up next to Sunstreaker like a demented petrorabbit. It was a habit of Sideswipe’s, but fortunately Sunstreaker was always so aware of his surroundings that Sideswipe never startled him. That, and the crimson was hard to miss.

Sideswipe wasn’t quite touching him, but he was still closer to Sunstreaker than he would have liked. His next step took him both forward and to the side, away from the red pain in his aft.

He still had no idea why Sideswipe bothered to keep trying to talk or sit with him. Sooner or later, Sideswipe would figure out that Sunstreaker wasn’t anyone’s pet project. No one had ever been able to change him, and no one ever would. Sideswipe was a little slow, but he’d get it eventually. Then he’d finally leave Sunstreaker alone.

It was better that way.

“No.”

“Awww, why not? Hitting those drones over and over again can’t be fun!” Sideswipe protested. “Or even much of a challenge by this point!”

“I don’t like getting yelled at,” Sunstreaker retorted.

Sideswipe paused a step and then rushed forward to keep pace with Sunstreaker. “Uh… what?”

Sunstreaker jerked his head to the side, towards the area where Flume was watching a couple of newbies flail at one another. “The drill instructors… the medics... They get tetchy when I rip mechs’ limbs off. They don’t seem to mind it as much when I do it to the drones.”

Sideswipe snorted. “Oh, come on, you don’t really rip… ok. Never mind, you probably do,” he said, backtracking when he saw Sunstreaker’s raised orbital ridge. 

“Regardless. That’s them. This is me. You’re not gonna rip anything off _me_ ,” Sideswipe boasted.

Sunstreaker slanted his optics to the side and he scoffed. “You’re not a rookie and I don’t like you _nearly_ enough to hold back for you.”

Sideswipe beamed at him, making something in Sunstreaker’s chest feel funny. Sunstreaker ignored it.

“That implies that you like me at least a little!” he crowed, pointing a finger in Sunstreaker’s face. Sunstreaker promptly snapped his denta at it, and Sideswipe jerked his hand away just before he made contact.

“And besides… you’re not gonna rip anything off me… cuz you have to catch me first!”

Sunstreaker registered a sharp pain in the back of his right helm vent and he came to a complete stop. He blinked at nothing for a few seconds before slowly turning his head to the side. Sideswipe stared back at him from several arms lengths’ away and raised a clawed hand up into the air. His second and third finger had energon beaded up on them and Sunstreaker could feel a trickle of liquid slide down his helm vent.

Sideswipe raised an orbital ridge in challenge, slowly bringing his hand up to his mouth. His glossa flicked out, licking up a drop of Sunstreaker’s energon.

“You’re dead,” Sunstreaker stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh, yeah? You sure abou…oh, _slag!”_

Sideswipe yelped as Sunstreaker lunged for him, but to Sunstreaker’s chagrin, the damned menace really _was_ fast. Sunstreaker still caught up to him though, at the far corner of the training room where he tackled Sideswipe to the ground in a great clash of metal.

They broke apart to roll to their feet and Sunstreaker gleefully proceeded with making good on his threat, uncaring of the consequences.

To be honest, Sunstreaker actually held back an annoyingly frequent amount. He was a better hand to hand fighter than anyone else on the base so the DIs often used him in demonstrations or to train new soldiers. After putting several sparring partners in Medical, he had learned when to pull his punches.

And to practice his own skills on drones who couldn’t complain when he tore into them.

Sideswipe though… it didn’t take long for Sunstreaker to realize that Sideswipe was both fast and _good_. He actually made Sunstreaker work for each hit he got through Sideswipe’s blocks. And Sideswipe landed nearly as many blows on Sunstreaker as he did on Sideswipe.

Not that Sunstreaker was counting.

The fight would probably have gone on for far longer, but the air raid siren went off, making Sideswipe pause for a split second. Sunstreaker didn’t hesitate and he used the momentary distraction to sweep Sideswipe’s leg out from under him. 

Off balance, Sideswipe crashed to his back on the floor, Sunstreaker following him down. Knees straddling Sideswipe’s abdomen, Sunstreaker pulled his fist back and paused only when he got a good look at Sideswipe’s expression.

“Aha! Now I know that you cheat!” Sideswipe crowed, smiling widely. “That’s great, cuz I hate playing by the rules!”

Sunstreaker stared in bewilderment, energon from the cracked plating under his left optic dripping off the edge of his chin. Normally by now, his opponent would be cowering in fear or bristling with fear-induced anger… or screaming for help. No one ever _laughed_ with seeming enjoyment after getting their aft handed to them.

Although… if Sunstreaker were to be honest with himself, it _had_ been more like a draw.

“That was fun, wasn’t it? And see… all my limbs intact!” Sideswipe said, wriggling his fingers in the air. “Hey…”

Sideswipe moved against Sunstreaker’s lax hold, propping his upper body up on his elbows. His smile faded a little, gaze turning intent. His optics shifted, stare drifting down to focus on Sunstreaker’s lips. “… may I kiss you?”

Sunstreaker reared back, mouth moving soundlessly before he could find his words. “… what?!”

“I dunno… it seemed like a moment. No? Don’t feel the same?” Sideswipe asked, head tilted to the side. His lips formed a little moue of disappointment as he looked back into Sunstreaker’s optics.

“I… you… there’s a battle…” Sunstreaker said lamely, pointing to where everyone was leaving the room at a run. It was a poor distraction, but he’d take anything to shift his processor off the fact that someone had actually _asked_ to _kiss_ him. Not grope him or suggest a frag, but something rather tame in comparison.

To make matters even more confusing, there had been a moment there that he had almost said ‘yes’. Which was a horrible idea, no matter how many times Sunstreaker’s optics had lingered on Sideswipe’s aft or shoulders.

Sideswipe glanced over at the nearest exit, then back at Sunstreaker. He sighed. “Yup, guess so. So you wanna get off me, big fella?”

Sunstreaker realized he was still straddling Sideswipe’s abdomen and he jumped to his feet so fast he almost tripped over himself. Sideswipe reached a hand up and Sunstreaker automatically grabbed it and pulled, not even realizing what he had done until Sideswipe was next to him, bouncing on the heels of his pedes.

“Well? Think you could spar with me again? I promise not to whine to the medics if you actually hurt me,” Sideswipe asked, leaning in with a conspiratorial wink.

Sideswipe had a multitude of dents and scrapes, but other than that, he actually looked in good shape. And it had been nice for Sunstreaker to actually stretch his capabilities a little outside of battle.

“I’ll think about it,” Sunstreaker replied, and then he hauled off and punched Sideswipe in the mouth.

As Sunstreaker broke into a jog towards the weapons depot, Sideswipe’s curses rose up from behind him and Sunstreaker grinned, pleased with himself.

He couldn’t have Sideswipe getting any _ideas_ , after all.

~ End chapter


	5. Caring is Slag and I Don't Like It

Sideswipe was just another mech. Yeah, he was a good fighter, and sure, he was pretty to look at, and Sunstreaker tolerated him more than anyone else…

… but none of that should have inspired the pervasive panic which was currently running through Sunstreaker’s lines.

“Can you fix him?” Sunstreaker demanded, gaze darting back and forth between Flange’s faceplates to Sideswipe’s limp frame.

\--

After Sideswipe had proved himself capable of keeping up with Sunstreakker, they’d taken to fighting in the general vicinity of one another. They could take care of themselves individually, but when together they generally sustained less injuries and slagged more Decepticons.

Also, there was a … friendly… competition between the two of them as to who killed the most enemy soldiers. They kept a running tally per battle, shouted out to one another through the smoke and blaster rounds.

Sunstreaker had been up by five according to his last count. That had been before a Decepticon combiner team had rampaged across the battlefield, separating them. When the fighting had died down, Sideswipe hadn’t immediately popped up next to Sunstreaker’s elbow crowing about his kills. Sunstreaker had scanned the field and the first inkling of worry had washed over him when Sideswipe’s distinctive red hadn’t been immediately noticeable.

Sunstreaker had wavered in place for a long moment before finally turning and trudging off in the direction he had last seen Sideswipe. He had wandered around between offlined and graying bodies for almost an hour before he had caught a familiar flash out of the corner of one optic.

Sideswipe had been practically buried under two offlined mechs, an Autobot minibot and a big bruiser of a Decepticon. Knowing Sideswipe, he had probably gone to the other Autobot’s aid because the dumb idiot was prone to stupid slag like that.

See where that had gotten him.

It had taken a bit of doing, but Sunstreaker had managed to roll the ‘con off Sideswipe’s back and kicked the minibot out of the way. Sideswipe’s color had been poor, but not completely faded so Sunstreaker had pulled Sideswipe up, draped him over his shoulder, and lugged him to the nearest field hospital.

Fragger had been heavy too.

\--

Flange looked down at Sideswipe, nasal ridge wrinkled. “He’s scrapped. At best, a 30% chance of survival. So if you’ll excuse me, I have others who have a much better prog… hey!”

Sunstreaker grabbed the medic around the neck and pulled him up to optic level. Flange’s pedes dangled. “So you’re saying he has a chance, but you just don’t have enough incentive to fix him? Is that it?”

The blaster in Sunstreaker’s other hand whined as it rapidly onlined and Flange’s optics widened in fear. “That… that’s not how triage works!!”

“It is today. Fix him,” Sunstreaker growled, shoving the other mech away.

Flange opened his mouth to protest but Sunstreaker crossed his arms, blaster’s muzzle still glowing hot.

“Fine!” Flange spat. “I’ll stabilize him as best as I can and then transport him back to base for surgery. In the meantime, these other two might die. If they do, it will be on your head!”

Flange gestured towards the other unconscious soldiers lying nearby, and Sunstreaker surveyed them dismissively.

“… I’m fine with that.”

Sunstreaker honestly didn’t care if Prime himself was lying there. Sideswipe was the only one who mattered.

\--

Don’t get attached. Don’t form friendships because inevitably… they died. It was the law of war, one which far too many soldiers ignored.

Sunstreaker _knew_ better, and had practiced that tenet religiously since shortly after he’d enlisted. Yet, somehow, without Sunstreaker ever being aware of it, Sideswipe had wormed his way under Sunstreaker’s plating.

And now Sunstreaker fragging _cared_.

He cared enough to follow the medic transport back to base, threaten the doctor who took over Sideswipe’s case, and loom just inside the medical bay doors for over five hours until they wheeled Sideswipe out of surgery and into recovery.

And then he sat down at Sideswipe’s side for another four hours until he finally woke up.

“Nnngh… anyone get the license plate of that bus?” Sideswipe mumbled, shifting atop the recovery berth. He opened his optics and blearily looked around, gaze finally alighting on Sunstreaker. Sideswipe blinked at him in confusion for several seconds.

“Sunstreaker? ‘sthat you?”

“Yes,” Sunstreaker replied curtly, suddenly tense. He had never done this before. In fact, he’d only ever visited Sideswipe once while he was in the last stages of a hospital stay and that had been due to boredom.

Or so Sunstreaker had thought at the time.

Sideswipe blinked some more. Sunstreaker refused to call the befuddled expression adorable, because he didn’t say slag like that.

“What happened?”

“You got fragged… idiot.”

Sideswipe raised a hand and shakily wiped at his optics. “I’m thinking not in the good sense, or else I wouldn’t be sitting here in Medical… wait… why are you here?”

Why, indeed? It wasn’t like he could say it had been a strut deep need to stay by the other mech’s side until Sunstreaker knew Sideswipe was going to be ok.

“… 27 today,” Sunstreaker finally decided to stay. “Wanted to know what your count was.”

Sideswipe raised an orbital ridge in disbelief. “You… sat with me… waiting for me to wake up… because you wanted to know what my count was?!”

Sunstreaker squared his jaw and met Sideswipe’s incredulous stare head-on. “Yes.”

“Mech… we need to get you a hobby,” Sideswipe replied after a moment. He shook his head, grinning wryly. “And it was 31, thank you very much.”

Damnit.

~ End chapter


	6. Evolution

Sideswipe was not shutting up.

Sunstreaker didn’t know what he was talking about this time, only that there was a lot of arm waving and ridiculous expressions involved. Over time, Sunstreaker had gotten used to Sideswipe chattering at him. For the most part, Sunstreaker tuned it all out, but sometimes he paid attention, occasionally nodding and grunting at appropriate times. Lately, he had started listening more, because when he actually responded, Sideswipe would always beam at him like he had just done something wonderful.

That wasn’t a look many people sent his way and it was frankly kind of addicting.

But for the most part, he let Sideswipe talk because it kept him out of trouble. Sideswipe got into _a lot_ of trouble when he wasn’t occupied outside of battle. And somewhere along the line it had fallen on Sunstreaker’s shoulders to keep Sideswipe occupied. Honestly, if Sunstreaker didn’t watch out for him, Sideswipe would probably spend all of his time in the brig as punishment for ill-conceived pranks.

Today though, Sideswipe’s rambling was irritating. Although if Sunstreaker were being honest with himself, everything was irritating. He hadn’t recharged well the night before and his morning energon had tasted off so he had skipped it, resulting in a complaining fuel tank and a fuzzy helm. On top of that, there hadn’t been a battle in almost a week and he was getting antsy. Frontliner frames commonly built up excess charge and it was definitely at the point where getting rid of it during training just wasn’t cutting it any more. He practically jittered in place with it **.**

Hmmm…

Excess charge.

Sunstreaker looked up and studied his companion. Sideswipe looked like he had gone through the washracks this morning; he appeared free of dirt, crimson paint job gleaming softly under the overhead lights. Sunstreaker took a moment to appreciate the bright blue optics, strong jaw, perfect cheekstruts, and lopsided grin.

Sunstreaker had hated that grin when he had first met Sideswipe. But now… now he was almost charmed by it.

“Do I have something on my face?” Sideswipe suddenly asked, disrupting Sunstreaker from his thoughts. 

“… what?”

“You’re staring at me. Did I spill something on myself again?” Sideswipe asked, wiping the back of his hand across his face in repetitive strokes. “I mean it’s been a grand total of three days since the last time I did so I’m probably due. Although rust sticks are so crumbly that I’m not sure they actually…”

“Do you have a place for when you frag?” Sunstreaker interrupted. Most soldiers did since they were packed in at two dozen mechs per barrack. Although some mecha didn’t care about an audience and would interface right there on their berths for any and all to see.

Usually in the middle of a shift cycle. When Sunstreaker was trying to recharge.

Sideswipe froze and he looked at Sunstreaker with wide, startled optics. “Uh… yeah? Why?”

Sunstreaker had never seen Sideswipe ‘face anyone else in the barracks, so he had presumed he had a more private spot. He got around, Sunstreaker knew. Mechs talked. And rumor was that Sideswipe was good, if tireless to the point of exhausting.

Sunstreaker felt like he needed exhausting right now. Besides… if he were to be honest with himself, this had been coming for a while now. He’d thought Sideswipe physically attractive since the first time he’d laid optics on him. Now that Sunstreaker apparently cared involved enough to sit next to the mech’s bedside, waiting for him to wake up after getting slagged on the battlefield… well, suffice to say that their relationship was evolving.

He wasn’t exactly sure what it was changing _to_ … but it was definitely evolving nonetheless.

“Because you and I are going there. Come on.”

Sunstreaker stood up and began walking towards the rec room exit, knowing Sideswipe would follow. It took a few steps, but Sideswipe eventually ran up to Sunstreaker’s side and matched his stride, staring at Sunstreaker askance.

“And are we going there to… frag?” Sideswipe hesitantly ventured as they emerged into the hallway. “Uh, take a right here. Head for Storage B.”

Sunstreaker gave Sideswipe a withering look. “No, we’re going to plan a party for the base commander… _idiot_. Yes, we’re going to frag

Sideswipe was silent for several moments before he finally gave a little shake of his head and spoke. “Damn… well, _awesome_ … I’m definitely game. I was actually starting to think you didn’t interface. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but…”

“I’m picky,” Sunstreaker retorted. There were very few mecha he considered attractive enough and even fewer he could tolerate for an extended period of time. “… and I don’t like getting yelled at by the medics.”

Sideswipe laughed, a bright and carefree sound that made something in Sunsteaker’s lower abdomen clench. “Glad I made the cut. And I hope that’s code for my back’s gonna be denting some walls in a few minutes,” he said with a wink and an eager little rev of his engine.

Sunstreaker glanced over at Sideswipe and then nonchalantly shrugged. “Or mine.”

Sideswipe had carried Sunstreaker’s barely functioning carcass to the medic tents a time or two himself. He should be more than capable of holding Sunstreaker up against the wall as he spiked him **.**

And beyond needing someone both attractive and tolerable, Sunstreaker wanted a partner who could match him step for step. There wasn’t a lot of rumors floating around about Sunstreaker because he didn’t interface often, but it was likely he had just as much stamina as Sideswipe. They were both warriors, after all.

With every step, Sunstreaker became more and more certain that this had been a good idea. A sort of calm anticipation crept over him and Sunstreaker let it, happily following Sideswipe wherever he led them.

~ End chapter


	7. Panic! at the Storage Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV shift and the chapter which earns the Explicit rating

Sideswipe was just the tiniest bit nervous because… well… _Sunstreaker_.

He’d had a crush on Sunstreaker since the moment he had collided with him in that foxhole so long ago. To this day, Sideswipe still had no idea why he had been immediately drawn to the other mech especially considering the chilly welcome he’d received.

Scratch that… Sunstreaker was gorgeous, so there had been that first reaction of ‘woah, pretty… _want_ ’ when Sideswipe had first laid optics on the guy. But Sideswipe had quickly realized that Sunstreaker was an aft. And not just in the instance of being under fire.

No, Sunstreaker was an anti-social glitch who seemed to disdain or outright hate the rest of the world, including Sideswipe. Sideswipe just kind of skipped past all of that though because he couldn’t seem to stay away from Sunstreaker. Enough so that he endured a lot of snarling and glaring and some pretty nasty comments in the beginning. But it didn’t take long for Sideswipe to realize that it was all a cover; the poor mech was actually desperately lonely.

Maybe that was why Sideswipe liked him so much; Sideswipe was probably just as, if not more, lonely. All the jokes and smiles in the world had never made him click with someone as well as he did with Sunstreaker.

So he ate his meals with him, started sparring with him, and somewhere along the line, Sunstreaker had moved from despising Sideswipe to tolerating him. If Sideswipe was having a good day, he would even say Sunstreaker liked him… in his own odd way.

But despite that, Sunstreaker had never rescinded the ‘don’t touch’ mandate. After a while, platonic touches grew to be ok, like using Sideswipe as a crutch if wounded and vice versa. And on several occasions, he had even napped out in the field with his back snugged up against Sideswipe’s.

The first time he had done that, Sideswipe had been so shocked that he had gone completely still, worried that even a millimeter shift would irritate Sunstreaker and cause him to move away. Sideswipe desperately hadn’t wanted that. Because allowing Sideswipe to watch Sunstreaker’s back while he recharged was _trust._ Sideswipe could have potentially been content for _centuries_ with his unrequited crush as long as he had been able to keep Sunstreaker’s trust and camaraderie.

And then he said they were going to frag.

Sideswipe did his best not to get his hopes up. Just because Sunstreaker wanted to burn off a little excess energy via interfacing didn’t mean he wanted to be with Sideswipe in an actual relationship. Even with the whole ‘picky’ comment.

Which… what the Pit did that even mean? Did Sunstreaker have to emotionally connect to a mech first? Did his partner have to be a certain color? (Knowing Sunstreaker, that was a distinct possibility.) Did the moons and stars have to be aligned?

Sideswipe was honestly a little afraid to ask. He didn’t want to jeopardize this chance at more.

Even if Sunstreaker just wanted a quick frag, Sideswipe wasn’t going to say no. How many times had he daydreamed about licking Sunstreaker’s spike? His headvents or windshield? Frag, Sideswipe had even daydreamed about merely _kissing_ Sunstreaker.

As it turned out, Sunstreaker was an amazing kisser. Or maybe it was just because Sideswipe was kissing _Sunstreaker_. Normally Sideswipe wasn’t all that into kissing. It was ok, but it also implied a certain intimacy that couldn’t be found in one night stands.

Sideswipe _knew_ Sunstreaker - what would set him off, what would make him smile. He knew what Sunstreaker would let him get away with, when to push, and when to back off. Sunstreaker had allowed him in and let him participate in a platonic intimacy, once which Sideswipe had valued like a precious gift.

But kissing Sunstreaker was… Sideswipe didn’t want to be cheesy, even in the privacy of his own head… but it was like coming home. And Sideswipe had never really had a home, so that was saying something.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were the same height, so Sideswipe didn’t have to bend his neck at an awkward angle or rise up on the tips of his pedes. He just had to lean in, Sunstreaker’s frame so warm and solid beneath his hands. There was no hesitation on Sunstreaker’s part, and none of the aggression Sideswipe had expected. Sunstreaker just… opened up, moaning softly against Sideswipe’s lips in a way that made not just Sideswipe’s mouth tingle, but every other inch of him as well.

After that, Sideswipe kind of got a little hazy. There was one fleeting moment of surprise when Sunstreaker indicated he was perfectly happy to be spiked, right up against the back of the door. But that was quickly overcome by a dizzying warmth as Sideswipe sank into the welcoming vee of Sunstreaker’s thighs.

They overloaded within seconds of each other, Sideswipe’s face buried in Sunstreaker’s throat. It felt _so good,_ like the first time Sideswipe had discovered what an overload was, new and exciting and something he wanted to repeat over and over. Sideswipe’s entire body felt trembly and floaty, his spark aching as he pressed as close as he could get to Sunstreaker, enjoying the post overload bliss.

Sideswipe willingly switched up with Sunstreaker not long after, and they explored one another’s bodies with utmost attention to detail. Sunstreaker learned Sideswipe got a little wild when his sensory horns were sucked. Sideswipe discovered that Sunstreaker’s legs would wobble adorably when Sideswipe kissed the back of his knees.

There was a _list_ of things Sideswipe learned and then proceeded to use to make Sunstreaker arch, and writhe, and moan Sideswipe’s name, something that was quickly becoming addicting to hear.

It was maybe around the seventh or eighth overload that things went a little sideways and Sideswipe was too lust-drunk to really pinpoint exactly how it all began. He didn’t think it was Sunstreaker’s doing. No, the steady, deep thrusting from behind was glorious, and Sideswipe was letting Sunstreaker know via a string of babbled praise and encouragement.

Sunstreaker made things even better by sliding an arm around Sideswipe’s middle and pulling him into a standing position. Each shallow thrust raked over the sensitive interior nodes just behind his anterior nub, causing him to start panting with exponential bliss. Sunstreaker held him tight, chest pressed against Sideswipe’s back as he absently nibbled on the large energon line in the side of Sideswipe’s neck.

Sideswipe let Sunstreaker support him, his entire body drawn taut and thrumming with pleasure. And then his chest throbbed like it had during the first overload, spark whirling overly fast. Sideswipe thought it was his body’s way of telling him to slow down, maybe get some fuel because they’d been going at it for a while now.

Yet Sideswipe had been exhausted and worn out before and his chest plating had never clicked apart on its own. His crystal casing had never warmed and tingled as it retracted, exposing his very spark.

Sideswipe felt the first stirrings of panic.

Overload slammed into him seconds later and his back arched, the back of his helm digging into Sunstreaker’s shoulder. Even as his body twitched and jerked, his hands frantically pushed at the sides of his chest, shoving the armor plates back together. They had only parted by a few inches, but they were reluctant to move, his spark feeling heavy and leaden behind them.

Sunstreaker groaned and a moment later, Sideswipe’s valve welcomed the new spurts of transfluid signaling Sunstreaker’s release. Sideswipe’s calipers rhythmically clamped down, automatically trying to draw the spill into his gestational chamber.

Thank Primus for the mandatory tank contraceptives the army implanted in every new recruit. Sparking required transfluid and shared spark energies and Sideswipe could only assume his frame was interested in that activity for some unknown reason.

Well, Sideswipe wasn’t, thank you very much; no matter how much he liked his current partner.

Sunstreaker growled out a noise of pure satisfaction and Sideswipe’s spike twitched in reaction. It apparently hadn’t gotten the memo that Sideswipe was perilously close to having an anxiety attack and wanted to start another round. 

“What do you want to do next?” Sunstreaker asked, his hips leisurely grinding against Sideswipe’s aft for a few moments before he slowly withdrew.

“Um…” Sideswipe darted a quick glance down his front to see that his plating was finally fully closed. Although… was that a flicker of blue light behind the central seam?

“I think I should go.”

Sideswipe turned within the circle of Sunstreaker’s arms, trying to keep his chest hidden. Of course pressing it against Sunstreaker’s just made his spark throb again. He jerked back, trying to make it look natural.

“Hmm? What did you say?” Sunstreaker asked, his hands stroking Sideswipe’s sides. His optics were half lidded, his entire frame relaxed and loose and Sideswipe just wanted to topple them both to the floor again.

But Sideswipe needed to figure out why his HUD was flooded with requests for a spark merge of all things.

“I got to go. I got a… thing,” Sideswipe finished lamely. He crossed his arms over his chest and slipped out of Sunstreaker’s grip, sidestepping him to slide towards the door.

“Go?” Sunstreaker’s head tilted to the side in confusion. “… is something wrong?”

_Yes._

“No! Nothing’s wrong!” Sideswipe replied, voice a half octave higher than normal. He made an effort to reboot his vocalizer. “I just keep getting pinged by one of the sergeants. I should go figure out what he wants.”

“… Sideswipe…?”

Sunstreaker looked so lost and alone standing there, and Sideswipe hated leaving him. He felt horrible for causing that slow tensing of Sunstreaker’s shoulders, the wary glint he was getting in his optics. But Sideswipe’s fear was all consuming and overrode his instincts to soothe Sunstreaker.

“I’m sorry, this was great, thanks for inviting me, but I gotta go!” Sideswipe said, voice breaking again.

He turned and fled for the safety of another of his boltholes, one Sunstreaker knew nothing about. Sideswipe couldn’t have Sunstreaker following him, not until Sideswipe figured out what the Pit his body was doing.

~End chapter


	8. Not My Fault

Sunstreaker spent the first week feeling guilty, although it admittedly took him a few days to identify the tank churning emotion as guilt.

As a general rule, he didn’t experience guilt.

Yet he couldn’t help but assume Sideswipe pulling away had been due to something Sunstreaker had done. So he analyzed every interaction, every word, and every touch, looking for what he had done wrong. It had to have been something truly horrible because Sideswipe had stuck by him through a lot. Sunstreaker knew he wasn’t the most pleasant of mechs to be around but that had never deterred Sideswipe in the past.

Yet he had fled from Sunstreaker.

He had _run_ from the storage room, hunched in on himself and looking disturbed. And Sideswipe had stayed away. Sunstreaker spent his off shifts on his berth with one optic trained on the door, Sideswipe’s empty bed silently accusing him from across the room. But Sideswipe never came back to their barracks when Sunstreaker was there.

He avoided Sunstreaker on the rest of the base too, always hurriedly ducking out of rooms when Sunstreaker entered them. Somehow, he managed to completely change his duty shifts, presumably to decrease the possibility of them running into one another. And he was even scarce on the battlefield.

So Sunstreaker continued to review all his memories with his limited and admittedly stunted social parameters over and over again.

He came to one startling conclusion.

_He hadn’t done anything wrong._

This was _Sideswipe’s_ fault. Sunstreaker had done everything right, and Sideswipe had been enjoying himself (quite loudly, matter of fact), when everything had fallen apart. _Sideswipe_ had been the one to run without ever giving Sunstreaker an explanation for it.

The guilt washed away in a rising tide of fury. Sunstreaker didn’t like feeling guilt. He didn’t like being put into a situation where he was made out to be the bad guy when for once he had done nothing wrong.

He was tempted to ignore Sideswipe in return and just cut all ties with him, especially when Sunstreaker found out that Sideswipe was seemingly fragging his way through the rest of the base. It explained why Sideswipe’s berth was always so empty, and made the flames of Sunstreaker’s anger flicker higher.

But Sunstreaker wanted an explanation. He had been fragging _invested_ in whatever the Pit had been developing between him and Sideswipe. There had been a string of moments during their interfacing when Sunstreaker had felt at peace amidst the wash of pleasure. He had been deliriously happy to hold Sideswipe close, feeling like Sunstreaker was actually finally a part of something good.

That peace been something he had decided he would fight for, and by Primus Sunstreaker was going to fight for it.

… or at least pummel Sideswipe into a pile of junkmetal if he had been stringing Sunstreaker along all this time just to get under his plating.

Sunstreaker was honestly fine with either.

He caught up with Sideswipe at the end of the second week, having spent the past few days memorizing Sideswipe’s new duty schedule. Just as Sideswipe was about to walk out of the door to the training room, Sunstreaker strode in, causing Sideswipe to stumble back a step in surprise.

Sideswipe’s face lit up and he gave Sunstreaker what appeared to be a genuine smile. Like he was honestly _happy_ to see Sunstreaker. Like none of the past two weeks had ever happened.

And if Sunstreaker thought he had been angry before…

“What the frag is your problem?!” Sunstreaker snapped, shoving at both of Sideswipe’s shoulders.

Sideswipe’s face fell and he shuffled backwards even further.

“I… Sunny, I…”

“Don’t fragging call me that!” Sunstreaker growled and threw a punch at Sideswipe’s stupid, lopsided mouth.

Sideswipe ducked backwards out of range, holding up his hands. “Sunn… Sunstreaker, please, I…”

“I spent the last few weeks thinking it was something I had done, and then I hear from Smokescreen that you fragged Rocket. And Stormsurge. And Plique. What _was_ this?!” Sunstreaker demanded pointing between himself and Sideswipe.

Then despite his best intentions, he heard his voice take on a vulnerable, hurt tone. “Was I just a game to you? Were you just pretending to like me so you could cross me off your list of conquests? I thought you were my…”

Friend. Partner. Lover. Sunstreaker didn’t even have a word for it other than Person of Special Importance.

Apparently Sunstreaker hadn’t been that important in return.

“NO!” Sideswipe exclaimed, finally coming to a halt. He leaned forward, looking earnest. “It wasn’t a game. It was _nothing_ you did, I promise.”

“So it was all you then,” Sunstreaker retorted, resorting back to the familiar anger. “You’re just a fragging aft who ran away like a _coward_ and couldn’t even give me a _reason_.”

“I… yes,” Sideswipe said, ducking his head as he fidgeted in place. “I… you’re right, I’m sorry. I _was_ a coward. I… something happened while we were… and I didn’t know why it was happening. I should have told you I was working something out but I… I was scared.”

Sideswipe finished up in a near whisper. Sunstreaker gazed at the top of Sideswipe’s bowed helm, a tiny tendril of concern weaving its way through the anger.

Sunstreaker buried it deep with a vengeance.

“Well, I’m so glad Stormsurge and the others were there for you to help in your time of need,” Sunstreaker said nastily.

“No, that’s not…!” Sideswipe protested, looking up with wide optics. “It was… I had to make sure it was just you!”

“What the frag are you talking about?” Sunstreaker asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He was tired, already weary from his outburst and just about done with this conversation. At least he had gotten validation; it hadn’t been his fault this time. 

“I didn’t do it on purpose. I didn’t mean for it to happen. But it didn’t happen with anyone else, just you, and I lo… really like you a lot, but I still thought there should be some sort of conscious control over it…” Sideswipe babbled nervously, his fingers around themselves.

And all at once, Sunstreaker realized Sideswipe looked _horrible._ His color was dull, his finish was atrocious, and there were scrapes and dents all over him. His optics looked a little wild and he still stood hunched in on himself, almost as if in pain.

That thread of worry turned into a rope.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sunstreaker replied, lowering his voice a little. Sideswipe had screwed Sunstreaker over; he had admitted as such. But _why_? Was there actually something wrong with him?

“I…” Sideswipe’s lower lip trembled and he looked on the verge of collapsing into sobs. “I… my spark… during that last overload… I… it wanted to merge.”

Sideswipe flinched, head turning away as if expecting Sunstreaker to hit him. But Sunstreaker couldn’t move. He just stared at Sideswipe in astonishment.

“… to merge?” Sunstreaker repeated in a whisper, processing racing madly. That was… well, it certainly wasn’t what Sunstreaker was expecting to hear.

“I… that’s what my HUD said. And it… it hurt, like it was swollen… my plating started to shift, including my crystal. I didn’t tell it to do it, Sunny, I promise!” Sideswipe exclaimed, blinking rapidly at Sunstreaker. His hands reached out like he wanted to touch Sunstreaker’s chest, but then he quickly retracted them, his arms wrapping around his torso instead.

Sunstreaker’s gaze dropped down to Sideswipe’s hood. “Does… does it still hurt?”

Sideswipe’s vents caught and his right hand came up, pressing almost reflexively over his spark. “Yes. It’s like someone’s reaching inside me and crushing it. I’m sorry! I don’t know why it’s doing this, and I didn’t mean to hurt you! I ruined everything and I…"

Sideswipe’s voice cut off in a surprised grunt as Sunstreaker took two steps forward and flung his arms around Sideswipe. Sunstreaker gave Sideswipe a punishing squeeze and then released him, moving back only far enough to grasp the sides of Sideswipe’s helm.

“You didn’t ruin everything. You’re a stupid glitch for not just _telling_ me but I’ve always known you were an idiot. We’ll figure this out… we’ll go see the medics… ok?” Sunstreaker said firmly, staring into Sideswipe’s optics.

Somehow, in the last minute, all of Sunstreaker’s fury had burned out in the face of Sideswipe’s apology and fear. All that remained was concern and that familiar determination that Sideswipe would get fixed.

No matter who Sunstreaker had to kill to make it happen.

~End chapter


	9. Soap Opera

“He’s gonna have to look at my spark, isn’t he?” Sideswipe asked quietly. Sunstreaker glanced over at him and then through the open door at the medic on duty, Patches. He was across the room, bustling around a minibot who was holding his arm tight to his chest.

When Sunstreaker had asked which medic Sideswipe trusted the most, he had named this one. Sunstreaker had been treated by him a few times before and hadn’t had an issue. A little quiet, but certainly competent, so Sunstreaker had agreed.

Fortunately, they had both been on their off duty shifts so it had been relatively easy to drag a nervous Sideswipe down to Medical Bay immediately after they had talked.

Relatively. The closer they had gotten to the MedBay, the slower Sideswipe had walked, until he had been nearly dragging his feet.

“Probably. That gonna be ok?” Sunstreaker asked, watching Sideswipe fidget on the exam berth. Sunstreaker had started out standing at his side, but once it had become obvious that they were pretty far down the list of waiting mechs, Sunstreaker had stolen a stool from one of the medic desks. Now he sat at Sideswipe’s bedside, one pede tapping at the floor impatiently.

Sideswipe sighed, scrubbing his hand across his face. “I’ve never been a fan of doctors poking at my spark. They did it a lot when I was a sparkling. My spark’s weird, apparently.”

Sunstreaker frowned at that bit of info. So Sideswipe already had a spark issue of some kind then. It must not have been severe though, or he wouldn’t have passed the entrance physicals. “Do you want me to leave when he looks at you?”

“No. Please stay?” Sideswipe asked, turning big optics on Sunstreaker. The pleading look was too much to resist so he nodded, reaching out and patting Sideswipe’s dangling ankle.

“Sideswipe?”

Both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe startled at the soft voice, Sideswipe’s shoulder rocket whining a high pitch before he managed to shut down his battle systems.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Sideswipe replied shakily. “Wear a bell or something, eh, doc?”

“My apologies,” Patches said, inclining his head. He stood in the open doorway of the exam room, unassuming in dark gray and white colors. He was of average height, a head shorter than either Sideswipe or Sunstreaker. “I have a light step, and I should have knocked.”

Patches moved through the doorway and gestured at the door. “Would you like me to keep it open?”

Sideswipe shook his head. “No, close it. It’s… it’s kinda personal.”

“The admission form said something about your spark?” Patches inquired, withdrawing a scanner from subspace. He didn’t close the door, glancing at Sunstreaker instead. “Is your friend staying?”

“Yes. On both counts,” Sideswipe replied and Patches finally shut the door. He moved forward, each motion deliberate and slow. Sunstreaker appreciated it. Patches had obviously been around amped up frontliners like Sideswipe before.

“So tell me what happened,” Patches said, passing the scanner over every inch of Sideswipe’s frame in slow side to side waves.

“Uh, ok. Well, we were… you know… ‘facing,” Sideswipe said haltingly, pointing to himself and then Sunstreaker. “Our first time, about three weeks ago. And right after my first overload… I didn’t think much of it at the time, but my spark got a little… tight? I didn’t mention it cuz it went away after a minute or so. We kept going and everything else was fine until my seventh?... eighth?... overload. A few seconds before it, um…”

Sideswipe trailed off for a moment before visibly rallying. “My chestplates started splitting aside. My crystal retracted and I got notifications of an impending spark merge.”

“Hmm,” Patches commented. “How did your spark feel at the time?”

“… swollen. Too big for the space it was in,” Sideswipe replied, Sunstreaker leaning forward in interest. Sideswipe had already told him all this, but Sunstreaker was carefully watching Patches’ faceplates for any reaction. Unfortunately, the medic didn’t wear much of an expression other than polite interest. 

“And did you two merge?” Patches asked.

“No. Sunny didn’t even know what was happening. I was facing away from him. I freaked, to be honest. Shoved my plating back together and bolted,” Sideswipe said, biting his lower lip in shame. “Was I… it’s not supposed to do that on its own, right? That’s a voluntary thing, isn’t it?”

“Yes, you are correct. In later term sparkings a merge can be involuntary, but I am not seeing any evidence of a kindling. If you don’t mind my asking, what position were you in both times your spark felt off?” Patches asked, examining his scanner’s screen.

Sideswipe tilted his head to the side, orbital ridges furrowing. “You know, I hadn’t realized… but we were standing both times. Chest to chest the first and my back to his chest the second,” Sideswipe said. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Patches said honestly. “Everything is looking good here. Your spark rhythm is arrhythmic but rhythmically so. Well within normal parameters. Would you mind showing me your spark, please?”

Sideswipe made a small noise of distress but nodded his head. As he laid back on the berth, he flung a hand out towards Sunstreaker. Sunstreaker reflexively grabbed it, squeezing it as Patches moved to Sideswipe’s other side.

“It says in your file that you have a congenital abnormality of the spark – a smaller than average size,” Patches reported.

“Yeah. Stumped the docs when I was younger,” Sideswipe said, gripping Sunstreaker’s fingers like a lifeline. Sunstreaker heard a soft click of transformation and he saw Sideswipe’s plating shift. Sunstreaker opened his mouth to say something, but the medic beat him to it.

“It’s unusual, but we do see a variety of spark sizes, in either direction. It’s generally not an issue, however,” Patches said, taking a slow step back. He held up his hands, well above the level of the table so Sideswipe could see them. “At your pace, Sideswipe. There’s no hurry. You are safe here.”

Sunstreaker stood, drawing Sideswipe’s hand up and resting their linked fingers against his chest. Sideswipe stared at Sunstreaker wide-opticked. His lips were pressed together in a thin line and he looked terrified. Patches had obviously already noticed and was staying very still, waiting.

“I’m sorry. I got poked at a lot back then,” Sideswipe finally said, turning to look back at Patches.

The medic inclined his head again, smiling gently. “I quite understand. Whenever you’re ready.”

It took another minute, but Sideswipe eventually was able to instruct his crystal housing to retract. Patches gave it a few more seconds and then carefully stepped forward, peering inside Sideswipe’s chest cavity.

Sunstreaker hadn’t planned on looking. It was one thing to be present in the room, but sparks were private. They were for mates or those looking to become mates. Sideswipe was… important… to Sunstreaker, but he wasn’t sure about something as intense as bonding.

Nevertheless, Sunstreaker felt his gaze be drawn to the softly glowing ball of pure energy flickering within Sideswipe’s chest. Sunstreaker had never seen another spark other than his own before; he guessed they were all colored the same as Sunstreaker’s was the exact same shade of indigo.

“Yes, definitely on the smaller side, but looking quite healthy,” Patches commented. “I am going to activate the scanner to get another reading without your armor in the way. Is that alright?”

“Yeah,” Sideswipe said, sounding strangled. He was staring resolutely up at the ceiling, not even seeking out Sunstreaker anymore.

“Mine’s bigger,” Sunstreaker commented, feeling the need to say _something_.

Sideswipe blinked and turned his head to look at Sunstreaker.

“Thanks, Sunny. Not like I was feeling inadequate or anything before,” Sideswipe said dryly.

Sunstreaker gave a small shake of his head, a little irritated with himself. That had come out completely wrong. “No, I mean… you’re not the only one; my family doctor told me my spark was smaller than normal when I was growing up too. About three quarters of an average sized spark.”

“That’s interesting,” Patches said. Sunstreaker looked over at the medic expecting him to see him staring at his scanner’s readout. But instead he was looking speculatively at Sunstreaker instead.

“How so?” Sunstreaker replied, rearing back a little under the scrutiny.

“Did you feel anything from your spark during the interfacing?” Patches asked, not answering Sunstreaker’s question.

“No. But…”

Patches’ optics narrowed. “Yes?”

“I… I wouldn’t. I had spasms in my spark when I was younger; they would make me offline. My doctor eventually had to shut down the sensors to my spark. I’ve never felt anything from it since,” Sunstreaker explained.

“Woah,” Sideswipe said, bringing Sunstreaker’s attention back to him. “Imagine the odds; us with our two weirdo sparks. So Sunny’s could have been attracted to mine and telling him to merge too, only he wouldn’t have known it?”

Sideswipe looked at Patches, almost excited. But Patches definitely wasn’t sharing in the sentiment. He was frowning, forehelm creased in thought.

“Possible, although again… merging is normally voluntary. So you processor doesn’t log input from your spark at all?” Patches asked Sunstreaker.

Sunstreaker shook his head. “Not in the usual way, no. I would get a spark failure notice if it was happening, but that’s about it.”

“Interesting. Would you mind if I took a look at your spark?” Patches inquired.

Sunstreaker straightened up in surprise, glancing down at Sideswipe. “… it could help you figure out what happened to his?” he asked hesitantly. He didn’t see what good it would do, but then again, he wasn’t a medical professional

“I have a working theory. But I would need to examine your spark for further data,” Patches explained.

“You totally don’t have to,” Sideswipe piped up, squeezing Sunstreaker’s fingers. Sunstreaker considered Sideswipe for a moment before nodding at Patches.

“No, it’s fine. Just don’t mess with the sensory input,” Sunstreaker cautioned.

“I will not, just an optical and scanner exam only,” Patches promised. He took a step back, indicating for Sideswipe to sit up.

Sunstreaker exchanged places with Sideswipe and settled on his back. He retracted his armor and housing without pause. Although he’d been examined multiple times as a sparkling and youngling, his family doctor had always been gentle and reassuring.

Apparently Sideswipe had had a different experience.

Patches ran a scanner over Sunstreaker’s spark, having to gently push Sideswipe’s head out of the way as he leaned in. Sunstreaker almost shied away from Sideswipe’s stare, but he restrained himself. Sunsteaker had looked so it was only fair that Sideswipe did too.

“Ooh… your spark is so pretty, Sunny. You’re right, it _is_ a little bigger!” Sideswipe commented. “Hey, what’s that?”

Sunstreaker flinched as Sideswipe pointed at something and his hand whipped up to encircle Sideswipe’s wrist. 

“Be careful, you idiot,” Sunstreaker snapped.

Sideswipe just rolled his optics, seemingly much more cheerful now that it wasn’t him lying open and exposed on the table. “I wouldn’t hurt you, you know that! Well… I mean…”

Sideswipe quickly pulled his hand back, expression falling. Sunstreaker fought off the automatic urge to reassure him and instead stayed silent, letting Sideswipe stew in his own sorrow. Sunstreaker had forgiven Sideswipe in light of everything. But he would never forget what Sideswipe had done.

“It appears to be a scar,” Patches replied, rising up on his pedetips to look closer. “Who was your doctor?”

“Solder. He practiced in Kalis. His clinic was destroyed in one of the bombing raids, and I’m pretty sure he died not long after,” Sunstreaker replied.

“You’re from Kalis? I didn’t know that!” Sideswipe exclaimed. “So am I! Where could a scar like that come from?”

Sunstreaker blinked up at Sideswipe, a little taken back. Kalis hadn’t exactly been huge; he was honestly a little surprised he had never met Sideswipe before the army.

“From a few different things,” Patches said cagily. “Go ahead and close up now.”

“Did you get what you needed?” Sunstreaker asked, doing as suggested. He sat up, Sideswipe standing next to the side of the berth as Patches moved to the foot. “Did that help any?”

“Mm… do either of you two have siblings?” Patches asked, apropos of nothing. He crossed his arms over his chest, one hand rubbing his chin as he stared at a patch of air which was level with Sunstreaker’s knee. He looked deep in thought, his optic unfocused.

Sunstreaker shook his head, confused as to where this was going. “No, I was an only child.”

“Nope. Well, I guess… I mean, I suppose I could have had siblings? The orphanage didn’t know anything about my family,” Sideswipe chirped up.

Sunstreaker’s head whipped around and he stared in shock at Sideswipe. “You’re an orphan?”

“Yeah. Abandoned when I was only a few solars old. Left on the doorstep, like something out a vid,” Sideswipe replied, waving a nonchalant hand through the air.

Suddenly, so much of Sideswipe’s blasé attitude about war and his remarks about not having much made sense. But even more than that…

“I… I was an orphan too. My caretakers couldn’t kindle so they turned to adoption,” Sunstreaker said, lips feeling numb. Out of the corner of his optic, he noted Patches nodding sagely as they spoke.

“Interesting. That is just the data I needed,” Patches announced, head rising up with a small smile.

Sideswipe looked from Sunstreaker to Patches and back again. He gave a small, disbelieving laugh. “What? You think we’re long lost spark twins or something?”

“Yes. As unbelievable as it sounds, I do think that.”

The room went completely silent. Sideswipe stared at Patches, while Sunstreaker stared at Sideswipe, processor awhirl.

It couldn’t be. Surely someone would have figured out he was a twin, right?

Sideswipe finally snorted, shaking his head. “No, that’s dumb. Sunny and I aren’t twins! No matter what I said, this isn’t a movie.”

“Many of the pieces fit,” Patches said calmly, setting his scanner down. “You both have small sparks, typical of twins; the spark before a split is normally one and a half times the average. It is normal for one ‘half’ of the spark to be slightly larger than the other, as is Sunstreaker’s. Your spark colors are identical, you both have split scars. You are _both_ orphans from the _same_ originating city. And most importantly, your sparks yearn to be together. Twins merge frequently; their sparks demand it. The only reason why Sunstreaker isn't experiencing that urge is because his spark is disconnected from his processor.”

Sideswipe started shaking his head while Sunstreaker felt the room tilt to the side around him, just a few degrees off from normal.

… a brother? He had a brother? Not just a brother, but a _spark twin_?

It… sort of made sense. Why he had always felt alone, why he liked being around Sideswipe, no matter how much he put up a front to the opposite.

Why the intimacy of interfacing him had felt so _right_.

“No,” Sideswipe stated firmly, still shaking his head. He shifted his weight, and Sunstreaker wanted to reach out to him. He’d already learned that Sideswipe was prone to running when faced with something big.

But Sunstreaker felt frozen in place, his body too heavy to do anything but sit there, stunned.

“Sideswipe… you’re the same age, the same frametype,” Patches said gently. “You’re…”

“NO!” Sideswipe shouted, hands curling into fists. “No, it’s _not true!_ Frag this _and_ you. Frag you _both!”_ Sideswipe exclaimed, face contorted with rage. He sounded hysterical, so Sunstreaker tried his best to not be hurt by Sideswipe’s words, but they still stung.

“I’m outta here,” Sideswipe muttered, turning on his heel and striding out the door. It slammed shut behind him and all Sunstreaker could do was stare at it, numb.

~ End chapter


	10. Three Little Words

Sunstreaker waited a few hours, hoping Sideswipe would come find him. He settled on his berth in the barracks, head shooting up every time someone entered the room. But he never once saw that familiar flash of crimson.

After a while, Sunstreaker heaved a sigh and left to start his search. To his surprise, it only took a few minutes to find Sideswipe. He was in the first place Sunstreaker looked, the storage room where they had interfaced.

Sunstreaker was a little surprised to see Sideswipe when he checked out the room, but then again… the majority of their time spent here had been good.

It didn’t look like Sideswipe was reliving the good times though; he was curled up in the corner, face buried in his drawn up knees. He didn’t even notice Sunstreaker until the door shut with a quiet click. Then Sideswipe startled and looked up, staring warily at Sunstreaker.

“You really need to stop running from big stuff like this,” Sunstreaker said tiredly. He wanted to be angry at Sideswipe’s reaction, but Sunstreaker’s honestly hadn’t been that much better. He had sat on that medical berth for over thirty minutes, shaking and ventilating harshly from shock while Patches had stood next to him, stalwart and silent.

“I wasn’t running,” Sideswipe replied sullenly, glancing away. “It was a… a strategic retreat.”

“A tactician, you are not,” Sunstreaker said, raising an orbital ridge. “Mind if I sit?”

Sideswipe freed an arm and gestured beside him. “Pull up a patch of floor.”

Sunstreaker settled onto the decking, leaving a healthy distance between him and his newfound brother. He kept his optics fixed on the door. “So. What’s your issue this time?”

Sunstreaker could actually feel Sideswipe’s incredulous stare on the side of his face, but that was better than the droopy ball of misery Sideswipe had been when Sunstreaker had arrived.

“Really? You’re _really_ going to ask me that?”

“Yeah, I am. You’re starting to give me a complex, always running away from me,” Sunstreaker retorted, dropping his gaze to stare at the tips of his pedes. They were dirty and scuffed and would need a repaint sooner rather than later. Maybe he would devote himself to that after Sideswipe rejected him for the last time.

“That’s what I’m assuming, anyway. Can’t stand the thought of sharing a spark with me?”

Sunstreaker’s body rocked to the side from a punch to his shoulder, and he reflexively snarled at Sideswipe. He restrained himself from retaliating only when he saw the anguished look on Sideswipe’s face.

“It’s always about you, isn’t it?” Sideswipe snapped. “Well, what about me? Why did your caretakers take you but not me? What was so wrong with me that _two_ sets of parents didn’t want me? I can’t even remember how many times fosters took me in and then sent me back after a few days! Why does no one ever _want_ me?!”

Sunstreaker immediately rose up on his knees, swinging himself around and pressing his chest against Sideswipe’s pulled up legs. Sideswipe looked startled, his mouth open in shock as Sunstreaker gripped the top of Sideswipe’s knees.

“I don’t know. All I know is that _I_ want you,” Sunstreaker said earnestly. He had never considered that this was what Sideswipe might be thinking and it made his spark ache with sympathy.

Sideswipe sniffled, his engine whining in distress. “You only want me because our sparks are supposed to be together; you heard Patches.”

Sunstreaker shook Sideswipe’s knees in frustration. “Yeah, I did. And you should have as well – I don’t have any input from my spark making me want you. I want you because you tell stupid jokes and you laugh when we spar and because of your dumb lopsided smile. That’s all me, Sideswipe. Not my spark.”

Sideswipe stared up at Sunstreaker, trembling. He was silent for a long moment, then “… my smile’s not lopsided.”

“Oh, for…”

Sunstreaker forced Sideswipe’s knees apart and crawled between them, hauling Sideswipe up by the shoulders. Primus, Sideswipe could be so _frustrating_ sometimes.

“Your smile is _definitely_ lopsided, and that’s all you got out of that?” Sunstreaker demanded, shaking Sideswipe a little. “Besides… how do you think _I_ feel? People _like_ you. It’s not a stretch for me to like you as well. I’m the one mecha look at like I’m going to lose it and kill them one day.”

“That’s because they don’t know you,” Sideswipe said fiercely, reaching up and gripping Sunstreaker’s forearms. “If they knew you like I did…”

“… they’d like me too?” Sunstreaker retorted. “Or would they need to share my spark to be able to even tolerate me?”

“I don’t just tolerate you, I love you!” Sideswipe exclaimed, shoving Sunstreaker’s chest in frustration.

Love?

Sunstreaker considered it for a moment. He had struggled for a long time to determine how he felt about Sideswipe. Could that emotion… that fear for Sideswipe when he was hurt, that urge to cheer him up when he was upset, that joy in seeing Sideswipe happy… could that be love? Sunstreaker had thought he had loved his caretakers, but it was such a lukewarm sensation in comparison to how he felt about Sideswipe… especially when Sunstreaker stopped shying away from it and just let himself feel.

Sunstreaker blinked in surprise. “You… love me?”

“Of course I love you!” Sideswipe snapped, throwing his hands in the air. “You listen to me and you calm me down and you’re so gorgeous, and I don’t know what I would do without you because no one else would ever track me down after I do stupid slag like run away and hide from everything.

“… how could I _not_ love you after all that? How could I…” Sideswipe got a funny look on his face. “How could I keep _running_ from you?”

Sideswipe groaned, head hanging down. “Ugh, I’m such a disaster. We both are, aren’t we?”

“Well, I don’t know… _my_ smile isn’t lopsided,” Sunstreaker said after a moment, still reeling with the realization that he was very likely in love.

Sideswipe’s head jerked up and he stared at Sunstreaker in shock. Then he started giggling, hysterical little sounds that quickly turned into sobs. He reached out and Sunstreaker met him halfway, their arms winding around each other’s waists.

“I think I love you too,” Sunstreaker whispered after a long moment, giving in to the maelstrom of emotions surging through him. Sideswipe gripped him tighter in response, burrowing closer. “And even if it’s only because of our sparks… I really don’t care; it just means I get to keep you.”

“Oh, buddy,” Sideswipe said, pulling back and scrubbing furiously at his face. “You may regret that, because you’re gonna have me for a long, _long_ time.” 

Sunstreaker sat back on the heels of his pedes, watching Sideswipe pull himself together. “I think I know why I used to have spark spasms.”

“Your spark was looking for mine, I bet,” Sideswipe said. He sighed and leaned back against the wall, the back of his helm impacting with a dull thunk. “I guess we should give the stupid things what they want, huh?”

Sunstreaker glanced down at Sideswipe’s chest, remembering Sideswipe saying earlier that his spark still hurt. Then he recalled the pain he had experienced when he was younger. Sunstreaker grimaced.

“This is either going to be the most painful thing ever…” Sunstreaker said.

“… or the best,” Sideswipe said, finishing Sunstreaker’s thought. “Think Patches forgives me for yelling at him? Cuz I don’t think we should attempt this without a medic knowing about it ahead of time in case we end up maiming each other.”

“Patches seemed pretty forgiving. Let’s go see what he says. I think I’m going to need a medic anyway, to get that sensory input returned,” Sunstreaker said, already dreading it. He pushed himself to his feet and reached a hand down. Sideswipe grabbed it, using it as leverage to stand as well.

“So…” Sideswipe trailed off. His hand was still gripping Sunstreaker’s and his smile was tremulous as he looked at Sunstreaker. “Twins, huh? I really get to have you?”

Sunstreaker nodded. “Apparently for our entire lives.”

He reached out and slid a hand around the back of Sideswipe’s helm, pulling him in for a kiss. It was brief and chaste but it sent that same thrill up Sunstreaker’s spinal strut that he had experienced when they had first touched lips.

For their entire lives. He would be bound to this mech for Sunstreaker’s whole existence. Had always been, in fact, but circumstances had prevented them from being together during their childhood.

Well, now nothing would prevent Sunstreaker from being with this funny, pretty, and capable mech. Sunstreaker vowed it with every molecule of his apparently shared spark.

~ End chapter


	11. And Two Became One

Patches welcomed them back with a gentle smile and escorted them to a private recovery room without even having to be asked.

“I assume you worked things out?” he asked as he followed them inside and shut the door behind them.

“Yeah. We uh… we want to do the thing. You know… merge. Can we?” Sideswipe asked, rubbing his hands together nervously. Sunstreaker was just as nervous but he hid it behind an aloof facade.

“I think that it would be a very good idea. I’m honestly surprised your sparks are as healthy as they are, despite never having merged before,” Patches admitted. “I cannot predict what will happen, however. There is no documented account of something like this ever occurring before.”

“Ok. But you don’t think our sparks are gonna spontaneously combust or anything, do you?” Sideswipe asked, his hands mimicking an exploding bomb. Sunstreaker gently punched Sideswipe in the arm, glaring at him in exasperation.

“What? You never know!” Sideswipe replied, shrugging. “Romantic and all if we were to die during this, but I _do_ have plans for the future. _Lots_ of plans.”

Sideswipe leered at Sunstreaker, his gaze raking down Sunstreaker’s frame. Sunstreaker rolled his optics and crossed his arms over his chest. He had apparently forgotten to add occasionally irritating to the list of Sideswipe’s attributes. 

“I do not think that will happen,” Patches said, smiling in amusement. “Your sparks are part of a greater whole, so they should merge naturally. But your sparks have also been separate for so long that the merge could be uncomfortable at first, or take some time.

“Sunstreaker – you will need to be able to feel Sideswipe’s spark in order to accept it for the merge. It will be necessary that we restore your spark input for this to work,” Patches said, turning his attention to Sunstreaker. He gestured to the medical berth.

“Yeah, I figured,” Sunstreaker said, nodding. He hopped up on the table, legs swinging. He held out his arm containing the closest data port. “Solder said something about a directory command?”

“Let us see.”

Patches plugged in his data cord and his optics flickered as he searched through Sunstreaker’s systems. He was as gentle as Solder had always been, and Sunstreaker relaxed under the intrusion.

“Ah… there it is,” Patches said after a minute. “That is an easy enough fix. Sunstreaker… I am concerned that you may experience a spasm similar to what you did when younger. They have probably been happening all this time; you just haven’t felt them. The only thing that will correct it is a merge. Sideswipe…”

“I’m ready,” Sideswipe said determinedly. He came up to stand next to Patches, his chest armor retracted although his crystal was still firmly in place. Sunstreaker triggered his own armor to transform as well.

“Then I will proceed. Good luck, and I will be nearby if you require assistance.”

Sunstreaker curiously watched Patches’ optics flicker again and then the next thing he knew, he was being punched in the spark.

Or at least that’s what it felt like.

In reality, Sunstreaker had forgotten the extent of the pain he experienced during of one of his spark spasms. He cried out, back arching. His entire body went stiff but for his hands which started scrambling at his chest, trying to claw out the pain.

“No, no, shhh…”

Strong hands gripped Sunstreaker’s wrists and pushed his arms to the side and back, placing his palms down on the surface behind him.

“Slide back. Sunstreaker, slide back farther on the berth,” a familiar voice said. Sunstreaker’s processor struggled to give it a designation, overwhelmed with a scrolling list of the same message over and over again: ‘spark error’.

“That’s it, that’s good,” the voice praised as Sunstreaker struggled backwards. He thought maybe it would help him escape the agony in his chest, but it didn’t improve things in the slightest, and he whined piteously.

“Open your optics, Sunny. C’mon, look at me,” the voice urged.

Sunstreaker forced his optic shutters to part and he stared blankly at the mech leaning over him.

“I’ve got you, it’s ok; I’ll take care of you. I’m here. We’re together now.”

“Sideswipe,” Sunstreaker whimpered, finally identifying him. Sunstreaker’s hands shot up to clamp down on Sideswipe’s shoulders. “Please…”

“Open your casing. Sunny, you have to open your casing,” Sideswipe said, one of his hands cupping the side of Sunstreaker’s face. Sunstreaker leaned into it, optic shutters fluttering at the soothing touch. But it wasn’t enough. He needed more, something else entirely.

“Sunny… Sunstreaker, _open up for me_.”

Oh. Right.

Sunstreaker arched again, his crystal housing whipping aside at the demand once he finally understood it. “Please, Sides…”

“I’m here,” Sideswipe whispered, leaning down.

A stray thought flitted across Sunstreaker’s processor – Sideswipe’s optics were so pretty. Such a unique shade, just like their spark. His gaze was kind and loving, and Sunstreaker wanted to drown in it, leave the pain behind.

Sideswipe settled across Sunstreaker; along the way somewhere, Sunstreaker had become prone. Sideswipe’s weight felt good draped atop him, but Sunstreaker wanted more. Wanted all of him. Wanted…

A gentle warmth encroached upon the pain, meeting the edges and dissolving it away. It moved forward at a steady pace, filling Sunstreaker up with heat, a blissful heat which cradled Sunstreaker and held him aloft.

“Oh… oh, _Sunny_ …” Sideswipe sighed, those pretty optics moving even closer. Sideswipe’s forehelm pressed lightly against Sunstreaker’s and then all that Sunstreaker could see was Sideswipe. Sideswipe was on him, in him, seeping through every crack and crevice until he was everywhere.

And then Sideswipe _was_ him. Sunstreaker was Sideswipe and something clicked, deep in his chest and they were One. ‘Sunstreaker’ was just a concept of the past and The One took over and became All, succumbing to the darkness.

\--

Sunstreaker came back to himself slowly. He didn’t want to wake up. He was warm and comfortable and felt good. Strong. More in control of his body. And he was happy. Happy in a way he’d never been before. A deep seated contentment that filled him up completely.

But mixed into the joy was a sadness, one which became more and more prevalent as he recalled memories not his own.

He keened, a low, mournful sound which immediately prompted arms to go around him. He buried his face against someone’s shoulder and clung.

“Shhh… shhh…” that voice from before crooned.

Sideswipe. Sideswipe was the one holding him and Sunstreaker was holding Sideswipe in return. Their sparks were separated again, but Sunstreaker’s core felt full and there was a spot in the back of his processor that was both his and _not_ his. He could feel Sideswipe’s presence in both places. It felt right, not intrusive in the slightest.

But the sadness was wrong. Or at least what had caused it anyway.

“I’m so sorry!” Sunstreaker cried into Sideswipe’s plating.

He was sorry for everything: the loneliness which had been Sideswipe’s constant companion, the cold nights, the empty tanks… the physical and mental abuse. He didn’t understand how Sideswipe could ever smile after all that, but that was all he ever did.

That beautiful, lopsided smile. It meant even more to Sunstreaker now.

“You didn’t know. _I_ didn’t know. There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Sideswipe murmured, stroking the back of Sunstreaker’s helm.

“The orphanage _had_ to know. My caretakers…,” Sunstreaker said miserably. “… you’re right. They left you behind. They took me from you and hurt you in the process…”

“No one will ever hurt you again,” Sunstreaker promised after a moment, fiercely whispering the words. “I’ll kill them, I don’t care who they are.”

Sideswipe chuckled quietly. “You know, I would say that that’s a silly, overdramatic sentiment, but I woke up thinking I’d burn the galaxy down for you, so… thanks.”

“… now it doesn’t sound as good in comparison,” Sunstreaker muttered. “Why did you think that?”

Sideswipe laughed again. “It’s not a competition, Sunny. And because you were lonely. And misunderstood. No one really appreciated you.”

“But you do.” The words were half statement, half question, although Sunstreaker didn’t know why. He could practically feel the acceptance radiating off Sideswipe. 

“Damn straight I do. Hey, you doing ok?” Sideswipe asked, voice a little concerned. “You were out for a little while longer than I was, and you’re still not looking at me.”

“I’m ok,” Sunstreaker said, moving back a little so he could raise his head and survey Sideswipe. “There was a lot of you.”

A lot of memories to catch up on. In comparison, Sunstreaker’s life had been boring. No wonder Sideswipe had gone through it all faster.

Sideswipe smiled gently, propping his head up on his arm. His other hand remained draped over Sunstreaker’s waist. “There you are. You never told me you draw. You made so many beautiful things, Sunny.”

Sunstreaker ducked his head in embarrassment and an instant later felt a buoyant warmth wash over him. It had a familiar air of mirth and mischievousness to it, and Sunstreaker looked at his twin with amazement.

“That was you,” Sunstreaker said slowly. “I can _feel_ you.”

He clumsily grasped at the still lingering sensation and followed it to its source, to the fullness in the back of his processor. A burst of wordless joy greeted him and Sideswipe smiled widely, his optics bright.

“Yeah… yeah, I can feel you too,” Sideswipe said happily. “Patches stopped by right after I woke up, gave me some articles on sparktwins. Apparently we have a bond like mates do, but it’s supposed to be even stronger. We can send emotions back and forth and we may be able to even speak across it one day.”

“You mean have your voice in my head, _all the time_?” Sunstreaker made a horrified face and Sideswipe swatted at him, giggling. It was such a carefree sound; Sunstreaker wanted to bottle it up and keep it forever, but settled for dragging Sideswipe back down and kissing him soundly.

The broke apart roughly a minute later. Sunstreaker was pleased to see that Sideswipe was panting, his optics darkened with lust.

“What was that for?” Sideswipe asked. The fingers of the hand pressed against Sunstreaker’s chest spread out and flexed, digit tips bracketing Sunstreaker’s spark exactly even over the armor. Sideswipe didn’t even have to look; it was like he instinctively knew the very boundaries of Sunstreaker’s spark.

“Just wanted to,” Sunstreaker replied honestly.

The sadness was fading now. He hated that Sideswipe had suffered while Sunstreaker had had a family, a roof over his head, and routine fuelings. He hated that he had always thought there was something wrong with him, that he had been sickly and in pain during a large portion of his sparklinghood. He hated that they could have been together but that someone out there… the orphanage, his caretakers, their originators… had kept them apart.

Sunstreaker would keep that hate with him always. He wasn’t the type to forgive easily, and separating the two of them had been the utmost transgression.

But he had Sideswipe _now._ He had Sideswipe’s smile, and his kisses, and that little space in Sunstreaker’s spark that was filled with light and love when before it had been empty and dark and cold.

Sunstreaker wouldn’t forgive and he wouldn’t forget… but he wouldn’t dwell either. Not when he had so much catching up to do.

~ End chapter


	12. Epilogue: Celebrity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV switch to Sideswipe again. A little snippet that takes place far in the twins' future.

“Who the everlovin’ frag are you?!”

Sideswipe cracked open one optic and gazed sleepily at the red and white medic standing in the doorway of Sunstreaker’s recovery room. He looked equally surprised and irritated, and Sideswipe assumed this was the ornery medic Sunstreaker had been complaining about.

Sunstreaker complained about all medics in general, but this one had piqued his interest. He hadn’t said as much to Sideswipe, but Sideswipe could tell Sunstreaker liked this one.

“’m Sideswipe.”

Sideswipe promptly reclosed his optic and nuzzled Sunstreaker’s shoulder. Then he waited.

“… and _why_ exactly are you here?”

It was so easy sometimes.

“Snugglin’,” Sideswipe replied, the word a little mumbled from where his face was smashed against Sunstreaker’s plating. “Isn’t it obvious?”

The medic’s engine gave a little growl, and Sideswipe just barely restrained from triumphantly grinning.

“Yes, I suppose it is. What _isn’t_ obvious is why you’re snuggling my patient. Is there a base wide ‘Snuggle the Soldiers’ campaign I wasn’t aware of?” the medic barked.

Oooh, snarky. Maybe that was why Sunstreaker liked him; he probably reminded Sunstreaker of Sideswipe.

Sideswipe yawned, stretching before leveraging himself up onto his elbow.

“If there is, I’m not a part of it. I don’t just go around cuddling mecha willy-nilly, despite what others may say. Only my twin. And only because _someone_ put him in stasis.” Sideswipe raised a challenging orbital ridge at the medic, because… _really_? Sunstreaker’s wounds weren’t bad enough that he had to be knocked out to recover.

“Well, if _someone_ hadn’t insisted on leaving before repairs were even finished, he would probably be awake right now, cuddling you back,” the medic retorted. “And I call bullslag on the twin thing. That’s nowhere in his record. Nice try though. Now get out.”

“Are you honestly telling me you sedated him just because he was torqueing you off?” Sideswipe blinked at the medic before laughing in delight. Well, it was certainly one way to deal with Sunstreaker.

“Nice. And no, I’m staying. I’m off shift and us being twins is in our addendums. Don’t worry though. No one ever reads them so don’t feel bad,” Sideswipe added, giving the medic the tiniest of smirks. 

The medic’s optics brightened in outrage and then an odd expression passed over his face. He blinked twice and then refocused on Sideswipe.

“Well. An addendum. I just corrected that. That sort of information should be listed at the beginning of your records, not as some side note,” the medic said. He gave Sideswipe a considering look. “Spark-split, eh? I’m surprised I haven’t seen you sooner - I’ve had him for nearly a cycle.”

Sideswipe didn’t appreciate the implication that he hadn’t cared enough to be here. “On a separate mission. I get loaned out to Spec Ops every now and then. I like being sneaky,” he said with a conspiratorial wink.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t pranked any of the medics in a long time. Maybe it was time to revisit the Bay’s doctors.

“You’re twins. You shouldn’t be separated like that,” the medic said, frowning.

“~Ad-den-dum~” Sideswipe sang. “You didn’t read it all the way through, did you? We were separated right after unfurling and all the way into adulthood. We’re kinda used to being apart. In fact, some days, Sunstreaker might prefer it.”

Sideswipe fondly gazed at his brother. He hadn’t pranked Sunstreaker in a while either. Always a dangerous undertaking. Fun.

But dangerous.

The medic went silent, prompting Sideswipe to look back up. He cocked his head to the side, confused as to why the medic looked… sad. No, not sad. More defeated than anything.

Hmm.

He was about to say something when the medic shook himself, his optics boring into Sideswipe’s.

“Well, then. Up you get. Back from a mission with scrapes all over you and no record of an exam,” the medic said, gesturing for Sideswipe to get off the berth.

“Aww, come on, I’m fine!” Sideswipe protested. “One of the other guys looked at me.”

“No, they didn’t. I’m the only ‘guy’ on the floor right now,” the medic said, rounding the berth and reaching for Sideswipe.

Sideswipe whined, but let himself be dragged off the berth and away from his cozy cuddle with his twin. He even let himself be poked and prodded, optics fixed in the ceiling in a suffering stare.

“Are you done yet?” Sideswipe asked, bored. The medic had scanned him twice already and was apparently finishing up a third pass. If he had to do it that many times, maybe he wasn’t that great of a doctor.

“Almost,” Ratchet said, examining the scanner’s readout. “One more thing I need to do.”

“Ugh, what’s tha… what…?”

Sideswipe trailed off, frozen in place as the medic placed a stabilizing hand on Sideswipe’s shoulder to lean past him and set the scanner down on the berthside table. Once one arm was there, it was nothing for the medic to reach up the other, enfolding Sideswipe in a tight embrace.

‘What a smooth fragger,’ Sideswipe thought to himself, his wide-opticked stare fixed on the medic’s white shoulder, only micrometers from Sideswipe’s face. He was shorter than the medic by just a few inches and somehow slimmer so it was like getting engulfed.

He should have jerked away, should have hit the other mech for taking liberties. He hadn’t even asked _permission_.

… but the medic was warm. And smelled good, giving off a scent Sideswipe couldn’t quite place but one that almost instantly made him feel comfortable. After a startled few seconds, Sideswipe hesitantly returned the hug, placing his hands on the medic’s lower back.

“Have you ever read the addendum?” the medic asked, his voice rumbling through his chest and into Sideswipe’s own.

Sideswipe melted a little, the tension bleeding out of him. He _leaned_ and the medic took his weight as if it were nothing.

“No.” Sideswipe’s voice was small, hesitant. “… why?”

“Patches wrote it,” the medic said, making Sideswipe jerk.

Patches. _Now_ Sideswipe recognized that scent. Disinfectant and ozone and burnt wires with the faintest whiff of energon. It shouldn’t be comforting, but Patches had always smelled similar when he had embraced them.

“Normally I’m not one to honor drivel like ‘make sure they get enough hugs’, but Patches… Patch was a good doctor. And if he prescribed hugs, well…” the medic trailed off, squeezing Sideswipe until he felt like he was going to pop.

Sideswipe loved it.

“You knew him?” Sideswipe asked, his voice still small. His vents were hitching and there was a suspicious sting in the back of his throat.

They didn’t like to think about Patches much. Didn’t like to think about the field tent he had been in, the one they had been limping towards when a missile had landed on it. They had never quite taken their guard down with another medic after that. The ‘cons specifically targeted Autobot medics; few lasted long.

“… he was a good friend, too.”

The medic’s voice was scratchy and Sideswipe squeezed back, recognizing the grief mirroring his own.

“He didn’t actually say ‘give them hugs’ did he?” Sideswipe asked after a moment. He squirmed a little, and the medic immediately released him. Sideswipe mourned the loss of that solidness supporting him, but he was a frontliner, damnit. He wasn’t a sparkling anymore.

The medic smirked. “Pretty much. You’re right, though. No one must read that thing if I’m the first to give you a hug.”

“Yeah, well,” Sideswipe said, wiping the back of his hand over his burning optics. “You try that slag with Sunny, and he’s gonna put you through a wall.”

The medic’s smirk widened. “Oh, Patches put instructions specifically for your brother in there too.”

Sideswipe threw his head back in a startled laugh. Of course Patches would; he had known them pretty well.

“He also said to make sure to let you two recover together if possible. So get on up there, kid. I’ll wake him up for you,” he medic said, gesturing back to the berth.

“’m not a kid,” Sideswipe protested, but it lacked any real heat. Especially in the face of an order to actually lay with Sunstreaker. Usually medics shooed him away, even if they knew he and Sunstreaker were twins.

“You are to me,” the medic retorted, fiddling with a line that was going into Sunstreaker’s port. “There. He should come up soon. But he needs to stay off that leg for another cycle. Make sure he does.”

The medic pointed a stern finger at Sideswipe and Sideswipe nodded, folding himself back down along Sunstreaker’s side.

“Ok, will do. Thanks. Hey… what’s your name?” Sideswipe asked as the medic turned to walk away. “You never told me.”

The medic looked over his shoulder, raising an orbital ridge. “Thought you knew. It’s Ratchet.”

Sideswipe’s entire body tensed up. “Ratchet. ‘Ratchet the Hatchet’? ‘Prime’s Ratchet’? ‘Capture, No Kill’ Ratchet?”

The Primus frickin’ Chief Medical Officer for the entire Autbot army had just given Sideswipe a hug?!

Ratchet rolled his optics. “Just Ratchet is fine,” he said drily.

“Yes, sir,” Sideswipe said meekly, hunkering down against Sunstreaker. Sideswipe’s processor worked madly. What was the CMO doing here? Did that mean the Prime was somewhere nearby too? What did that mean for their regiment? He’d heard rumors, but…

“Just. Ratchet. Is. Fine,” Ratchet repeated, reaching over and sharply pinching the top of Sideswipe’s nearest audial horn.

“Ow,” Sideswipe said and reflexively batted at the medic’s hand, all trace of reverence gone. “Bedside manner, geez.”

“Technically not your bedside,” Ratchet said, shrugging nonchalantly. “Get some rest. From what I understand, you might be getting transferred soon.”

With that bombshell, Ratchet turned around again, Sideswipe staring after him in shock. Transfer? To where? Would Sunstreaker come too?

As if hearing his thoughts, Ratchet paused in the doorway. “And won’t worry. From now on the two of you will be together. I’ll make sure of it.”

The steely-opticked look of determination on Ratchet’s faceplates left no doubt in Sideswipe’s mind that Ratchet was telling the truth.

A tentative warmth settled in the pit of Sideswipe’s stomach. It was almost like having Patches back. A rougher edged Patches, but still someone that inexplicably seemed to want to look out for Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. Plus Sideswipe had heard stories. Ratchet was known to be mean and stubborn and even ‘cons feared him.

… totally someone who could handle a few pranks.

~End


End file.
